Unresolved Mysteries
by Nopantspolicy
Summary: One day, Kyle remembers one of Kenny's deaths. He's going to get to the bottom of this. Kenny really wishes he'd stop following him and go home.
1. Chapter 1

Kyle slowly opened his eyes. His entire face was sore from last night. He'd felt as if he'd never get to sleep.

He turned onto his side to stare at the posters on the wall, as if they held some answer as to what to do now. He just had to get up and go to school, he guessed? It was so fucked up. This was so fucked up. How was he expected to go back to school after what happened yesterday? He'd seen a lot of death; South Park in general had seen a lot of death, a disproportionate amount considering the meager population of the town, but this was different. This was one of his best friends, and, as cruel as it was to say, that changed everything.

Except he had to go to school as if it hadn't changed everything.

"Kyyyyyle! I don't hear running water up there! Go get ready, you're going to be late!"

Kyle cringed as he heard his mom yell at him from downstairs. On a normal school day, he'd be up as soon as the alarm went off. He was sort of a morning person. He just... just couldn't find it in him today.

"KYLE!"

"Coming, mom." He murmured. He forced himself out of bed. It felt like there was some outside force, playing with his body like it was an action figure, making him move towards the bathroom.

All in all, it fucking sucked.

Kyle went and had a morning shower, went to the bathroom, washed his hands, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, put on lotion... the rest of the household had sort of become used to his morning routine, but since he got up later than usual, he found Ike banging on the door and telling him to "Stop being such a girl and come out already."

It was still sort of gross that everyone else seemed to think that doing those things was girly, and not normal, but today he couldn't really bring himself to care. Why did it matter if he brushed his hair? It wasn't like anyone was going to see it anyway, and if it got tangled into a horrible mass, he could deal with it later. When he didn't feel like garbage.

He got dressed. Skipped breakfast, because he was running late, and wasn't really hungry for waffles anyway. Grabbed his backpack, and his homework, which he had done, because even with the death he had standards, and made his way to the bus stop.

It was another cold day in South Park, Colorado. It never seemed to be anything else. Spring and fall were week-long sneezes, and even in the summer, it only ever reached 50 degrees. The snow cover was so thick by now that it never left the ground. Kyle shuffled through the frigid weather to the bus stop. He hoped desperately that the bus would come early, not just because of the weather, but because he didn't want to make small talk. He wasn't in the mood.

* * *

He took his place in line.

"Hey, Kyle." Stan called. He seemed fine, at least. Kyle knew how torn up he'd been at the last scare.

"Hey." Kyle replied. He couldn't really bring himself to sound alright.

"Hey, Kyle, are you on your period or something? Did you find out you paid ten cents extra for something you could have gotten for a dollar? Controlling the media getting old?"

There was a brief silence as Kyle stared at Cartman.

He wanted to say he didn't believe that anyone could be so heartless, but it was Cartman. He wanted to say that he couldn't believe that anyone in the world would be so callous, so unfeeling, that they would blurt out Jew jokes at a time like this, but it was Cartman. And he wanted to say that he didn't start contemplating murder, but it was CARTMAN. The fat asshole was always a thorn in his side, but Kyle had even less patience for it than normal, and—And he hadn't even shut up. He kept going.

"What? Look, Jew, I understand. I do. But it's okay! You can just steal that ten cents back from normal, God-fearing Christians, and everything will be okay. Now, you have to understand, if you do that, I'll be forced to stop you, but I'm sure you're used to dealing with-"

"Listen fatass, if you don't shut your goddamn mouth just THIS ONCE, I'll shut it for you! How the fuck can you say that!? Stan, why the fuck are YOU just sitting there and letting this fat fuck say all that?!"

Stan looked taken aback. Well, fuck him! These weren't normal circumstances, and if he was just going to let Cartman say all that bullshit at a time like this, Kyle wasn't going to take it sitting down! Stan was already muttering something about how he didn't like getting in the way of them, and how Kyle really had to calm down, and how he didn't know what had gotten into him, and Kyle desperately wanted to tear into him, too.

Stan was his best friend, sure. Stan was a great guy. But this was on another level, and it wasn't the time for his apathy, or self-centeredness.

"FUCK YOU, KYLE! I'm not fat!" The familiar words came out of Cartman's mouth and Kyle felt sick. Somehow, hearing something so familiar at a time like this just made everything worse. Stan was looking at Kyle with serious concern as he trembled and clenched his fists. Kyle could already tell Stan was going to take him aside at some point during the day, when it wouldn't make a scene, and tell him to calm down, or, or that he was being a dick, or something.

"Look, Kyle, it's pretty fucking offensive that you're taking something I'm genetically predisposed to, and making fun of it. Real mature."

Cartman continued to talk, and Kyle tuned out. He knew it'd be something despicable. He knew that, in other circumstances, he'd be all over listening and pointing out every single way the words out of Cartman's mouth made him look like a disgusting fat idiot. It was just that, right now, the snow that had crusted on his socks and was starting to melt into them was looking way more interesting than that.

"Look, back me up here, is Kyle being a huge Jew dick, yes or yes? Kenny?"

Kyle's head jolted upwards as if he'd been electrocuted. He stared at the end of the line.

Kenny was there, late as always, mumbling something through his parka about how Cartman was a fatass AND Kyle was an idiot.

There was no sign that he'd been torn apart by wild dogs the previous day. There was no sign that he'd been cremated, that there'd been a funeral. There was no sign that the parka he was currently wearing had been burned with the rest of him, had been shoved in a little golden urn. There was no sign that his eyes had been torn out, and his stomach ripped apart. There was no sign that the body had been so mangled that they couldn't even show it at the funeral.

"Kenny!?" Kyle reached over to pull Kenny's hood down, to check his face, to make absolutely sure there weren't any scars. Kenny struggled, yelled some muffled obscenities, and managed to shove him off with a little help from Stan.

"Dude, are you okay?" Stan asked as he let go of Kyle. Kyle managed to tear his eyes away from Kenny. Stan was staring at him as if he'd threatened to kill the president, or something.

"No, of course Kyle isn't okay." Cartman said before Kyle could even try to explain himself, or ask Kenny what the fuck was going on. Cartman tented his fingertips. He looked as if he was imitating a businessman he saw on TV. "Obviously, our little Kyle has gone through some serious changes. The sight of Kenny must have triggered something deep within him. Something he can't explain. Kyle, have you been overly interested in Butters, lately? Watching the Disney channel a little too closely?"

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman, I'm not gay." Kyle said. That distracted him for a moment, but it was brief, and he found himself staring at Kenny's gloved hands. He'd seen them torn off with his own eyes, and in his head, he could still hear the crunching...

"Seriously, Kyle, are you okay?" Stan asked. This couldn't wait for lunch anymore, obviously.

"Dude, of course I'm not okay. Are we all just going to stand around and ignore the fact that Kenny's here?"

Stan blinked. After a moment, he realized that Kyle wasn't going to clarify what the fuck he was talking about, and he just had to respond to... whatever the fuck that was. Kyle hated that he could read that on his face so clearly.

"...Uh. I mean, I know Kenny skips school a lot, but it's not that big a deal? Dude, chill out."

"Not that big a deal!? Stan! You were at the funeral yesterday! You SAW the body!"

"My god, he's experiencing a psychotic break. We have to pull him out of school, get him hooked up to machines, make sure no one else at school is exposed to his insanity!"

"Shut up, Cartman, I'm not crazy. Crazy isn't contagious, anyway, otherwise we'd have gotten it from you years ago. Look, Stan, help me check Kenny for scars, maybe, maybe he was cloned, or something."

Stan said nothing. He was still staring at Kyle. Kyle stared back, waiting for him to give some sign of recognition, anything at all. There was a pause before Stan took a step forward and awkwardly took Kyle around the shoulder.

"Look, Kyle. Maybe you... SHOULD stay out of school? Just for a day? Uh. Go to a doctor, or something."

"What!?" Kyle exclaimed, moving back. "No! I'm not crazy, dude, just listen to me!"

"I know, I know!" Stan assured him, moving his hands as if he was trying to calm an animal. "Look, dude, I know, you're not crazy, I've known you for years. Just. Maybe you're sick, or something? I dunno, dude, this is some serious shit."

"Stan, I swear to god I'm not crazy." Kyle said. This was starting to freak him the fuck out even worse. The combination of the stress from yesterday, and Stan acting like he'd gone batshit, and Kenny—Wait, Kenny! That was it!

"Look, Kenny. You know what I'm talking about, right? You have to. You don't just. You don't just forget about being torn apart by wild dogs, right?"

Kenny had been silently watching this entire time. The small sliver of his face that was visible through his hood was pale, though it was impossible to tell if it was from what was going on, or just the fact that it was cold as fuck.

After a moment, he gave a small, helpless shrug.

Kyle's face fell. Cartman made a hissing noise through his teeth.

"Ooooh, Kyle, bad news. You're a hundred percent insane. See, even Kenny agrees. Maybe even a hundred and two percent insane."

Stan glared at him. For a moment, before Stan said anything, Kyle felt a brief glimmer of hope that, maybe, even if he didn't remember, Stan believed him? It was sort of a stretch. There was no way that Kyle would believe himself, if he couldn't remember, but maybe Stan had a little more faith?

"Look, Cartman." Stan said. "You better not tell anyone at school about this and make it a big fucking deal like you always do. Let's just forget about it. If you don't tell anyone, I'll give you five bucks later."

"Deal."

Kyle stared at the ground. Kenny stared at Kyle. The bus arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

"...And, so, that's how California will take over the entire North American continent, and force us into bloodsport for their amusement, if we don't take out those bastards in Silicone Valley soon. For your homework, I would like you to write a few sentences about how you would most efficiently win in said bloodsport."

Kyle hadn't said a word on the bus, and he hadn't even pretended to be interested in Mr. Garrison's stupid Hunger Games theories. He was sort of busy sneaking furtive glances at Kenny, who was obviously doing the same. Something was obviously up, and Kenny wasn't as ignorant of it as he'd said at the bus stop. Kyle was going to get to the bottom of this.

Kyle had been watching him all class period, and he seemed shaky. Nervous. It was clear that he wasn't quite as ignorant as he'd made himself out to be at the bus stop, and how could he be? He'd died. Kyle had SEEN him die, and had seen Stan cry and cry about it, heard Cartman mutter about how obviously he and Stan were going to be lame for the rest of the day, and he was going home. Seen the expressions on Kenny's family's faces.

"Oh, finally, Mr. Garrison gives us some COOL homework." Cartman said with a smug grin. Figures. He WOULD be thrilled with an assignment that involved plotting about how to murder other kids.

Kyle didn't say anything. Instead, as the bell rang, he stood up and made for Kenny. The rest of the children stampeded out the door to get to the lunch line faster, with Cartman, as always, near the front. Everyone had learned not to shove him out of the way; it wasn't worth dealing with the ensuing tantrum. At least that was something neither him nor Kenny had to worry about. He wasn't allowed to get school lunches because they were never kosher, and Kenny was too poor to afford whatever garbage they were serving today anyway, so if he wanted to interrogate him, this was the best possible time to do it.

"Hey, Kenny? Can I talk to you?"

For a moment, Kenny sat there silently, looking as if he wasn't sure what to say. His eyes darted towards Mr. Garrison, who was reading some shitty young adult novel. After a few moments, Kenny grabbed his backpack, and stood up.

"...Yeah, okay." He said after a moment. He still wasn't really looking at Kyle.

"Let's go to the library. The only reason anyone's in there anymore anyway is to download music during lunch break."

* * *

Kyle listened as Kenny shuffled after him to the library. Had Kenny even BEEN to the school library? Like, ever? It didn't really have the sort of... literature... Kenny would be interested in. Kyle was in there like, all the time, and didn't remember ever seeing him around.

As soon as they walked in, Kenny grabbed a copy of Cosmo off the magazine rack and shoved it in his backpack with a furtive glance towards the sleeping librarian. Huh. Well, Kyle supposed it made sense, there were lots of hot women in it, but it wasn't going to distract him from finding out what the fuck was going on.

As soon as they were in the back, with the dictionaries and biographies, Kyle opened his mouth to interrogate Kenny, and Kenny covered it with a gloved hand.

"Kyle, you're really fucking smart, but don't make a big fucking deal about this." Kenny's voice was muffled as ever, but there was a certain intensity in his expression that Kyle wasn't used to seeing out of him. At least, not when he wasn't playing superheroes.

"What? Why not?! Kenny, how did you do that! I saw you get torn apart! I, I saw, your eyes-" Kenny had his hand over Kyle's mouth again. Kyle shoved him away, but he'd gotten his point across.

"Nobody will believe you. No one ever fucking remembers. Why the hell do YOU remember?"

One of those sentences stuck out to Kyle, and made him furrow his brows for a moment as he realized the implications. No way.

"Wait. No one EVER remembers? Kenny, I. This has happened before? How many times have you died?"

Kenny sighed, and Kyle opened his mouth to press for more information when Kenny continued. This was way more than Kenny usually talked, and Kyle let him. It was tempting to just keep questioning him, but this was obviously really important to him.

"I've died probably hundreds of times. Definitely more than fifty times. I've been shot, stabbed, run over... you name it. And none of you assholes ever remember. I just... just wake up in my bed the next morning."

Kenny looked tired, and it hurt to see a friend in trouble like that, but...

"Dude. Why? Why do you keep coming back to life? Why don't people remember?"

"I don't fucking know, Kyle. Something to do with Cthulu? Remember that gulf crisis a few years back? Uh-huh. That had to do with me, somehow, but then motherfucking Mintberry motherfucking Crunch saved the day and I decided it didn't really matter that much if it could be solved with the power of mint and berries combined."

Kyle was listening, but it all sounded so ridiculous. Why the hell would that stop anyone from trying to figure out why they kept dying? How the fuck could Cthulu cause someone to keep coming back to life like that? It didn't make any sense, why would Cthulu care? And-

"Hey, hey, hold up, Kenny, I remember that, you were in your bed sick like the entire time! Dude, don't make stuff up about something so serious."

"Kyle, don't be a fucking asshole."

"I'm not! Look, if it has to do with that cult, why don't we try and figure it out again?"

"Kyle."

"And even if they don't help us, like, we could call Jesus up, it's not like it's impossible to solve."

"Kyle."

"And how do you know it even has something to do with the cult? I mean, it seems more Jesus-y, to come back from the dead like that. Look, we can get Stan and Cartman together, maybe go do all the research we can, ask your parents about it. Wouldn't it be cool if you could, like, harness it? I mean, I wonder if you're some sort of-"

"KYLE." Kenny said. He grabbed Kyle a little too roughly and glared at him.

"Kyle, this is fucking serious. It can't be solved by going to Cthulu and giving a faggy little speech. I've tried most of those things, I've tried tons of different things, and they never fucking work, so fuck off. It's not your problem."

Kyle was silent for a moment as he took in Kenny's expression, his tone of voice, and what exactly he was saying. After a few moments, it became obvious what he had to do and say.

"Kenny, that's emo and retarded. I'm sure we can do something about it. I mean, I know you're used to not caring about things, but... but, I'm sure, with a little bit of work, and some help from our friends, we can-"

Kenny nearly threw Kyle into the bookshelf across from him. He did make Kyle stumble forward, and he did start walking away. Kyle braced himself against the bookshelf as he stood up straight again. What the fuck was that?

"Kenny, I wasn't finished!"

"Fuck you, Kyle."

Kenny walked off. Kyle couldn't bring himself to follow him. He had the bad feeling that if he followed Kenny now, he'd end up with a fist in his face to show for it. What the fuck! Why was his friend acting like such an asshole? This was a pretty big deal, and he didn't even want Kyle to help him? What was wrong with him? He obviously didn't like dying, so. This wasn't like him. If Kyle had to pick an adjective to describe Kenny, "Depressed" wouldn't even make the top ten, and "Hopeless" definitely wouldn't make it on, either. Perverted, sure. Angry, well, okay, sure. But even when Kenny was angry, he tended more towards action... Something was obviously wrong with him. Did it have something to do with the superhero thing? He always acted weird like that when he was being Mysterion, too.

Kyle walked towards the lunch room. He was already making plans towards how he was going to fix this. He couldn't just stand by while this happened to his friend.

Kenny wasn't seen for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

When Kyle entered the lunch room, he tried to interrupt Stan, ask him to go talk with him in the hallway, but Stan shut him down pretty quickly. After all, his conversation about who would win in a fight, Terrance or Phillip, was obviously more important than his concern for Kenny, right? Stan was cool and all, but he could be a real asshole sometimes. Kyle waited impatiently for the lunch table to realize that the comedy duo were obviously tied in all ways. On the way home, he could confront Stan about it. There was no way he was going to be an asshole about it NOW.

The rest of the school day felt agonizingly slow. Kyle couldn't keep his eyes off the clock, and Mr. Garrison's speeches went from annoying background noise to something that was actively taunting him. He could hear each tick of the clock, and it just made him want to get out faster. Come ON.

As soon as the bell rang, Kyle dashed for the door before anyone else could make it out. He wasn't the closest seat, but he had to make it to the library, AND check out a book about the elder gods, AND make it to the bus in time to sit next to Stan.

Kyle quickly skimmed the religion section of the library, and found absolutely fuck all. Not even a mention of the cult of Cthulu. God dammit, maybe it had to do with some other Deity? Kyle crammed his arms with books from several different religions, and made his way towards the front desk. The librarian gave him an odd look.

"So, have you finally decided to let Christ into your heart?"

Kyle wasn't sure if she was joking or not, so he decided to answer seriously. "No, Ma'am, I'm just doing some research."

"Hm." She answered, as she checked out a copy of the Book of Mormon. Kyle rocked on his feet. He had a bus to catch, and he really, really didn't want to be caught in a religious discussion right now. Any other time would be fine, he loved debating the finer points of religion, but right now, he just wanted to get home to do some reading.

* * *

As soon as she finished, Kyle shoved the books into his backpack and booked it towards the bus stop. Luckily, Stan saved his seat. Of course he did; this wasn't really weird, from Kyle. He always ran for the door on days a new book came out, and Stan even grinned at him when he sat down.

"Get anything good?" This was a rhetorical question, one that Stan asked every time he did this, and Kyle knew what to say.

"Come on, man. Everything I get is good."

"If it's something cool, and not about some old dead dude, maybe I'll borrow it later."

Kyle smiled, but the mood got more serious, all of a sudden. They didn't often talk on the bus, it was too loud, but Stan had been blowing him off all day and this was a place where he couldn't just walk away from the elephant in the room. Kyle could already see Stan looking uneasy. Well, fuck him.

"Dude, come on, can I just explain? I talked to Kenny during lunch, and he told me everything he knew."

Stan rubbed at his temples. He looked like he was getting a headache.

"Everything he knew about WHAT? Look, dude, Kenny didn't even show up to school today. You were losing your shit this morning about him, him dying, or something, and it really freaked me out. What's going on, man?"

Kyle blinked, and he hesitated before he spoke again. Um. "Dude, Kenny was here this morning, he just disappeared after lunch. Right?"

"No, dude, he never showed up to the bus stop. I think he was off getting high or something."

Suddenly, Kyle was feeling a little unsure of himself. Maybe he really was crazy? It didn't take long for him to push past the feeling, to realize that even if he was crazy, something was going on, and to realize that, wait, he was almost never wrong about things, and if he didn't trust his senses, then who DID he trust?

He was still going to. Drop it. For now. He'd bring it up to Kenny later.

"...Stan, he DID die. I, uh, talked to him on the phone about it. We discussed it, apparently it has something to do with that Cthulhu cult? You know, the cult that worshiped that stupid fucking god Cartman was bossing around? Yyyyeah."

"Dude."

"Yeah, I know, right? Apparently, Kenny's died hundreds of times, in all sorts of ways, and we've never remembered. He, uh, he seemed pretty pissed about it, actually."

"Dude, stop, you're freaking me out."

Kyle fell silent. Stan still didn't believe a word out of his mouth, did he? Kyle began turning a little red as he tried not to tell Stan he was being an asshole, and that friends TRUSTED their other friends. The desire to get angry and rude grew even stronger as Stan kept talking.

"I'm not going to snitch on you, or anything, but you should really tell your parents about this. Maybe they could help?"

"Stan, no, my mom can't know about this, are you crazy? She'd just get me locked up, and probably cause some big commotion about mental illness in elementary schoolers. That's not going to work. I picked out a bunch of religious books from the library, and I'm going to flip through them to see if any of that helps."

Stan didn't say anything for a few moments. And then, slowly:

"Look, dude, I can't help you with this, I'm sorry. I still think you should tell someone. Shit, dude, even Mr. Mackey..."

"No. I honestly can't believe you're even presenting Mr. Mackey as an option. Look, fine, maybe you won't help me. Maybe my best friend in the world won't help me. That's fine, I can do it on my own! But, when I prove myself right, you better not hold it against me, okay?"

As Kyle talked, Stan pressed his forehead against the bus window.

"Okay."

The bus rolled to a halt.

* * *

It was eight o'clock at night, and Kyle was still pouring over the books. He'd gotten home, he'd briefly left his room to eat dinner, and that was all his parents saw of him today. When they'd asked Kyle if he wanted to go shopping with them, he'd turned them down, yelling some excuse about having a lot of homework. He was going to get to the bottom of this, even if it took him all night. Unfortunately, it actually looked as if it would take all night.

"Kyle."

Kyle nearly flew out of his seat as he heard a gravelly voice address him. He DID fall over a little, and swivel the chair to stare out the window. As soon as he saw who it was, though, he relaxed, though not by much.

"Kenny! I mean, uh, Mysterion."

Kenny was in his superhero outfit with the underwear on the outside and question mark on the hood. It looked like it was made of old pajamas, and Kyle had no idea who'd made it, since no one in Kenny's family was that great at sewing, and especially not good enough to make a matching hood and mask. Maybe Kenny had made it himself? The guy was pretty multitalented.

Somehow, Mysterion had always commanded a lot more respect than the Human Kite did, or Tupperware, or Toolshed. He intrigued him. Kyle had the suspicion that this was because Kenny got dangerously into the role, and actually fought crime on the streets. Something about Kenny changed when he was being Mysterion. Maybe it was some sort of Venom scenario.

Still, Kyle crossed his arms. He tried not to sound TOO annoyed, but considering how big of an asshole Kenny was today, it was difficult.

"Dude, where the hell have you been! I've been researching everything, trying to figure out what was going on, and when I asked Stan about you doing school, he said you hadn't even come in. I'm not crazy, right? You were there today."

"I may have killed myself instead of walking home. Walking home fucking sucks during December."

Kyle wasn't even sure how to address that. He'd been all ready to lay into Kenny for being so dismissive of his ideas, and show him some of his new research, but hearing that was... a little heavy. Kyle sunk into his chair. He hadn't even realized he'd been on the edge of it.

"...Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh.' Look, Kyle, I was thinking. I know you're not just going to let go of this, because you can never let go of anything."

"Hey, Kenny, Don't-"

"That's not a bad thing. But, I was thinking about it, and you're the one we should really be worried about."

"Me?"

"Yes, you." Kenny finally quit crouching on the windowsill and slid into the room. He was still doing a shitty batman impression, but Kyle wasn't about to call him out on it. Shit, dude, Kenny could do whatever he wanted. He could be a princess, who cared? Kyle was more concerned about the costume affecting his mind, but he wasn't about to bring that up now.

As Kenny continued, Kyle actually pulled out the pad of paper he was taking notes on. Sure, it was sort of a nerdy thing to do, but anything Kenny said right now could be important. Fortunately, Kenny was facing away from him and towards the full moon in a brooding sort of way.

"You see, something must have changed in you, if you can remember my deaths. I've died in front of you since we were in kindergarten, but the fact of the matter is, if you can actually remember this time, something must have changed you. Changed your soul, or something. Have you noticed any changes? Anything different, other than remembering me dying. This could be way more important than you trying to figure out if MORMONISM has anything to do with—Are you taking notes?"

Kyle had been so busy writing everything down that when Mysterion did a dramatic turn towards him, he was caught frantically scribbling it all down. Kenny looked as if he was going to say something about it, but then shut his mouth again. Good. He realized how important this was.

"Look, Kenny, I don't remember anything different? I feel the same as I usually do. Uh. Should I remember something different?"

"I don't know. This has never happened before. Just stay on the lookout, okay?"

That was sort of bullshit. How was he supposed to figure out if there was anything different with him? He didn't feel any different, didn't remember doing anything that could have attracted the attention of the dark god Cthulhu...

"Look, Kenny, I know this is important to you, but-"

Kenny was already gone through the window. Kyle clenched his eyes tightly. He didn't give a shit if he was trying to be mysterious, not being in the loop was mostly ANNOYING.

Kyle tried to get to sleep. It took several hours of restless turning.


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh, ah, thank you for inviting me over to your house, Kyle!"

"No problem."

Butters seemed thrilled that someone wanted to hang out with him who wasn't Cartman. He was practically giddy, and Kyle couldn't really blame him. After all, he wasn't the biggest Butters fan—He didn't think ANYONE was a huge Butters fan—but no one deserved to be around Cartman as much as Butters was.

Kyle didn't mind hanging around Butters for a few hours and watching TV, even if it felt like every few minutes he'd say something that reminded Kyle of just how lame he was. Something like, "Oh, I heard from my dad that farts were your body's way of humiliating you for something you did," and Kyle would have to close his eyes briefly and remember why he was hanging around Butters on a Saturday morning in the first place when he COULD be having fun with Stan and Kenny.

Even though Butters didn't deserve to be around Cartman as much as he was, Kyle understood exactly why Cartman tormented and manipulated him. He was naive enough to do practically anything, and he was some sort of hacking savant. Once, as part of some dumb superhero game, he hacked into the jumbo tron at the stadium, he hacked into the school records to see who the poorest kid in school was... basically, as lame as he was, he could help Kyle.

Kyle didn't WANT to use Cartman's tactics, but it wasn't like he was doing it for the sole purpose of making the world a worse place. This was important, and, well, Butters seemed like he was having a good time.

"My dad doesn't let me watch this kind of stuff..." Butters commented. Kyle suddenly snapped out of his trance, and glanced towards the TV. Huh. At some point, Terrance and Phillip had ended, and some weird French Canadian show had started. Something about mimes and farts? But really serious, and in black and white.

Well, this was it. He'd sat through some Terrance and Phillip with Butters, so, now was probably the best chance he was going to get. Kyle reached over and turned the TV off.

"Hey, Butters, could you help me out with something? It's kind of important."

"Well, ah, sure, Kyle!" Butters said with a bright smile. Kyle smiled back, and he knew it looked as forced as it felt, but Butters didn't notice. Of course he didn't. He was Butters.

"Well, could you come upstairs with me?" Kyle lead Butters into his room, and towards the computer while he explained. There wasn't really much to explain.

"I need you to look up all the funerals that have happened in the last two months, okay? It's for a school project. I mean all of them, even the ones that weren't made public, okay? And tell me if anything weird shows up."

For a moment, Butters looked doubtful, and Kyle was worried that he was about to call Kyle out on it, especially since Mr. Garrison hadn't assigned any school projects, but all of Kyle's worry vanished as Butters turned to the computer and began typing.

"Kyle, are you sure? I mean, uh, it could take a bit of time... my parents aren't letting me use my computer at home, so-"

"No, that's fine, you can come over again!" Kyle quickly cut in. He instantly regretted it. Butters looked as if he'd keel over from excitement, and Kyle saw a lot of Butters-filled afternoons in his future. Kenny had better appreciate this...

"Do you mean it?! Well, gosh, okay! Thanks a lot!"

"Yeah..." Kyle said weakly. "Thanks for helping me out."

"No problem!"

At least ONE of them was happy. Kyle sat down on his bed and made awkward conversation as Butters went through the Hospital and Morgue records. Thank god South Park was so small.

* * *

On Monday, Kyle hopped out of his bed and got ready for school with an increased vigor. He still hadn't found Kenny's death in any of the funeral records, and it looked as if the McCormicks hadn't made any strange payments on the day of the funeral. It wasn't just that they didn't remember that Kenny died... it was like he'd never died in the first place.

Sure, it was a small bit of information, but everything he learned got him closer to figuring out what he was going to actually do about this. Kyle wasn't really happy with just sitting by while things weren't right.

Kyle walked to the bus stop and took his place. It didn't take long for Stan to break the awkward silence and comment.

"So, dude, you didn't come to the movie with us on Saturday..."

Kyle winced, and his good mood sort of dissipated. Oh, right, he'd sort of forgotten about that, since he was researching so much. That actually really sucked, he'd been looking forward to that movie. Or, he wasn't looking forward to the movie, but he was looking forward to hanging out and drinking slushies and talking about how great/terrible it was afterwards. Goddamn Butters.

"Yeah, I was sort of busy... sorry about that. I was hanging out with Butters."

"That makes sense." Cartman said. "Hang out with the only person lamer than you are so you look better. I'm on to your scheme."

Kyle opened his mouth to retaliate, and call Cartman out on being the one who hangs out with Butters the most, when Stan interrupted.

"Dude, wait. You ditched us to hang out with BUTTERS?"

Stan didn't look hurt, or angry. He just looked confused. Suddenly, Kyle realized that he'd probably been hoping that Kyle had gotten help over the weekend, and everything would go back to normal on Monday. Kyle frowned. Ugh, no matter how he explained this, it wasn't going to look good.

"Well... yeah. I needed him to help me find out if the McCormicks paid for a funeral a few weeks ago."

Kenny made an indignant noise and folded his arms.

"Hey, dickhole! I could have told you that!"

Kyle just glared back. Yeah, no, fuck Kenny. For someone who had painfully died over and over again, he seemed tremendously unwilling to help himself, and it pissed Kyle off. He just seemed like he'd sort of given up, and Kyle wasn't going to stand for that.

"Dude, we've established that you're not going to help me. I asked you tons of questions and offered ways to help, and you just brushed me off."

Kenny didn't say anything, but he gave Kyle a look that could have burnt paper. Asshole.

Cartman, meanwhile, had been watching very, very carefully. He clasped his hands together, and looked at Stan. Stan cringed.

"Hey, Stan, it occurs to me that four dollars definitely isn't enough for me to keep quiet about this, especially if Kyle's going to be crazy for a long time. I'm going to have to bump that up to twenty."

"Twenty dollars?! Hey, fuck you, man!"

"Well, its that, or everyone at school gets to know how crazy and gay for Kenny Kyle is. You saw how they were looking at eachother yesterday. Everyone already practically knows that Kyle's a huge homo."

Stan was already opening his mouth to agree to Cartman's terms when Kenny punched Cartman on the shoulder, hard. The twenty dollars were briefly forgotten as Cartman cried and wailed until the bus arrived. It was loud, but somehow, it was less obnoxious than he usually was.

* * *

Cartman was quieter than he normally was at school. After it became clear that exactly zero people, including Mr. Garrison, gave a shit that Kenny had punched him, he changed tactics.

There was a graph scrawled on the piece of paper in front of him that he was, in theory, using to take notes. The x-axis was "How much money it'd take for me to shut up." The y-axis was "Kyle's insanity." He circled the number 100 and handed the note to Stan. This was just math; Stan couldn't deny the fact that a hundred dollars was a fair number for Cartman to shut up.

The note reappeared on Cartman's desk with the words "GO FUCK YOURSELF" scrawled on it.

Well, if that was how it was going to be.

Kyle had been pointedly ignoring Kenny all day, and Kenny had obviously been doing the same. Both of them looked pissed off, and gay. After a few more moments of this, and Mr. Garrison explaining how Breaking Bad was a direct documentary about the war on drugs, Cartman groaned loudly.

"Get a fucking room, you two!"

"Do you have to go to the principal's office, Eric?" Mr. Garrison asked without skipping a beat. By now he was already used to Cartman's outbursts in the classroom, and he didn't even raise his chalk up from the chalkboard.

"No, Mr. Garrison, but I can't believe you don't care about two of your students having homosexual relations."

THAT sure got Mr. Garrison's attention. The man turned around to say something, but Cartman didn't even give him a chance to breathe. He knew that if he let this slip away, he wouldn't get a better one for a while.

"You've SEEN the way Kyle and Kenny have been looking at eachother, right? Or, not looking at eachother."

"What." That was Kyle. Hahahaha, Dumbass.

"Kyle's been going on and on about Kenny, lately, and how he should have died, or whatever. I think there's something seriously wrong with both of them, and they should probably be shipped off to the loony bin or whatever."

Cartman's face betrayed nothing but innocent concern for his good friends Kenny and Kyle, but internally, he was grinning. Kenny was telling him to go fuck himself, and Kyle was just frozen in angry shock, so he kept going.

"Really! Kyle willingly hung out with BUTTERS last Saturday. Is that the action of a sane man?"

"Aww..." Butters stared back down at his desk, hurt, even though he had to be used to people telling him exactly how lame he was by now. After that little comment, it seemed like Kyle finally decided to stop staring at him and start shitting out his mouth.

"Cartman, shut the fuck up. You all know full well that I'm not crazy, OR gay."

"What makes you so certain? Stan?" Cartman turned to Stan, smiling. Stan wilted back in his seat, obviously not comfortable with being put on the spot like that. Kyle stared at him. No... there was no way.

"Well," Stan said reluctantly. "You HAVE been acting... a little crazy, lately."

"Stan!" Kyle exclaimed. Cartman didn't give him any time to start whining about betrayal.

"You see?! What if he spreads it to the rest of us? He has to be contained."

"Alright, settle down, all of you." Mr. Garrison said, obviously tired of this. "Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, Stan. All of you to the counselor's office. I know you didn't do anything, Stan, but you're involved, and I don't need you complaining to your little friends."

Cartman grinned as Kyle started complaining and Kenny and Stan stood up silently. He knew that this was enough to at least make some of the class members start doubting Kyle and Kenny, and even better, he got to get out of class. Sure, he'd still rather have a hundred dollars, but convincing everyone at school that Kyle was a crazy fag was definitely worth more than twenty dollars. Maybe even twenty five.


	5. Chapter 5

"Okay, uh, kids, I heard that you were being disruptive in class..."

Mr. Mackey was pretty familiar to all four children in the room. They could probably imitate him in their sleep. Right now, though, the posture of each kid was telling.

Cartman had the smuggest look he could possibly get without actually grinning. He was trying desperately to look serious about the matter at hand—That was, Kyle's insanity—But it was obviously difficult for him.

Kyle himself seemed angry, because the fact he was here in the first place was stupid. Cartman was being a fat asshole, HE should be the one who got taken out of class on his own, and now Kyle was missing something that was probably on the test at the end of the week. He's have to ask Wendy for her notes. Or just watch the movie Mr. Garrison was teaching about in the first place.

Stan looked desperately like he didn't want to be here, but that was because he didn't want this mess to be a thing in the first place. He seemed troubled. Kyle didn't notice any of that. It just seemed like Stan was being a fucking asshole again, and looking out for his own image first and foremost. He didn't care about what was going on. All he cared about was the fact that Kyle was making him look bad.

Kenny was looking out the window.

"...And, and that's bad, mmmkay, because, how are the other kids s'posed to learn with you causing a ruckus?"

Cartman opened his mouth to say something, but Stan cut him off before he could say any more stupid shit about Kyle. Cartman looked a little irritated, until he actually heard what Stan was saying.

"Look, Mr. Mackey, we're mostly here because Cartman's an asshole, but Kyle HAS been saying some pretty weird stuff."

"What." Kyle said in pure and utter disbelief.

"Yeah." Cartman said with a somber nod. He saw his chance and he was going to take it, dammit. "We're all really worried about him. He keeps doing stuff like talking about how Kenny died, and hanging out with Butters..."

"Shut up, Cartman, I'm NOT crazy!"

"Dude." Stan said simply. Kyle turned to glare at him. He folded his arms tightly and clenched them close to his chest. He was turning a little red, actually, just from embarrassment, anger, and betrayal combined.

"And Stan, what is wrong with you?! Why are you selling me out to Mr. Mackey, and siding with Cartman?! What the hell, man!"

"Look, you HAVE been acting a little weird." Stan said. "I don't want the other kids to see that and start ripping on you, is that so messed up? Just get that checked out, okay? Don't bring it up anymore, don't even think about it, and everything can go back to normal."

"Yeah." Kenny said simply. Kyle wasn't even going to dignify Kenny with a response, and he definitely wasn't going to listen to him about this anymore. It was pretty obvious that even if Kenny didn't want his help, he wasn't doing anything about it himself, and there was something fishy going on that Kyle couldn't just ignore like Kenny could. Unlike Kenny, he actually CARED when things were going south. He didn't just go along with it.

"Now, um, listen, kids." Mr. Mackey could obviously sense the situation getting away from him, but there was nothing he could do about it. Kyle stood up and purposefully walked over to Stan's seat just so he could get in his face about it.

"Look, Stan, I know this seems stupid, or, or embarrassing to you, but shouldn't friends trust friends? I mean, shouldn't you know to listen to your friends by now? I know it might make you seem stupid in front of everyone else, but if you can't listen to your friends, then who CAN you listen to? See, I mean, I know that it might not seem like a big deal, or whatever, but loyalty... loyalty can mean a lot."

"Shut the fuck up you cocksucking hypocrite."

Kyle was all set to give a speech, but, apparently, Kenny wasn't in the mood for it. He'd been silently listening this whole time, and, judging by the way he was looking at the rest of his friends, thought they were all fucking retarded. Even Kyle. Especially Kyle.

Kyle glared at him, but it was too late to keep going, and Stan stood up too.

"Kyle, this isn't about that." He said, honestly looking offended. Sure, sometimes it was about that, and he always felt like a real asshole when someone called him out on it, but right now he was just trying to look after his best friend, and it was like he spat in his face. He honestly could tell that something was wrong with him, and he wanted it to get looked after before Kyle could really get hurt.

"BULLSHIT this isn't about that!" Kyle shouted, getting in his face. However, Stan had had enough. He wasn't in the mood for a fight, and he definitely wasn't in the mood for dealing with Kyle while he was being a jackass. He turned to leave.

"Hey, uh, kids, I haven't dismissed you yet, mmmkay, so, you can't just—Hey! Hey, what are you doing!"

Oh. Right. Mr. Mackey was there. Kyle could see the frustration on Stan's face as he let go of the doorknob and looked back at the room full of people he really, really wasn't in the mood to deal with. Ha. Kyle would have looked triumphant if he wasn't so frustrated.

"...Uh." Mr. Mackey said. There was a brief, awkward pause.

"...And, uh, now, now you kids can go, mmmmkay. I can, uh, tell that you've learned your lesson." Yeah, Mr. Mackey could tell that he wasn't getting this one back anyway.

"THANK you." Stan said, walking out the door. Kyle stared, grit his teeth, and followed him out, followed by Kenny.

Cartman still hadn't left. As Kyle left, he could hear him ask Mr. Mackey if he could see what he was talking about with regards to Kyle being crazy. FUCK that guy.

* * *

Kenny walked back to class. He was only vaguely listening to Kyle and Stan squabble about whether or not Stan sold him out. Kyle was being a total jackass but couldn't see it, and he'd obviously come around at some point, and Kenny didn't really care. It had become really, really tempting to shoot himself in the head back in the room, just because he had stopped giving a shit about the problem before he even walked into the counselor's office, but he was glad he hadn't. That shit would hurt, he didn't want to get kicked out of school, and there probably wasn't anything good on TV at home anyway.

What he DID give a shit about was the fact he was honestly considering looking into his power again.

Not with Kyle, obviously. Kyle could go suck his mom's sweaty, Jersey tits. But it really was fucked up, and even if the dying was slowing down, it wasn't so long ago that he was literally dying every single day. His luck had gotten better; the curse itself hadn't.

While Kenny quietly mulled it over, he walked back into the classroom, sat down, and continued doodling pictures of anime chicks in his notebook. He was getting better, sort of. People were even starting to buy some pictures online. Apparently, if you were willing to try any sick fetish, and draw it, grown men were willing to pay money? It was definitely doing a pretty good job supplementing Kenny's coke fund.

There were a few things weighing on his mind.

Most of his deaths these days were self-inflicted. It was hard not to be reckless when you knew for a fact that, whatever you did, you'd come back. Fucking any girl he could? Doing any drugs he could get his grease-stained mittens on? Really stupid dares? Hell, if they didn't kill him, they usually weren't fun or worth doing.

He'd have to stop that, or at least cut down significantly. No more snorting anything that came in white, powdered form. No more tying himself to shit and jumping off. Was it worth it?

Um, hell fucking yes it was fucking worth it. Suggesting it wasn't would be grounds to punch someone. Dying sucked.

Dying sucked really, really hard, and somehow, someone remembering about it wasn't making it any better. Maybe if it wasn't Kyle. Butters would be okay. Stan, even better. Cartman...

Okay, yeah, no, Cartman would be a million times worse than Kyle, nevermind. Cartman would probably reinstate the "Killing him every day" policy that the universe at large seemed to have forgotten about.

Even if he didn't look into his power, though, it was worth being Mysterion more often. The whole town was going to shit, and that was important, sure, but more important was making sure his little sister saw him every once in a while. Making sure his PARENTS saw him every once in a while. Possibly making sure his parents saw his fist every once in a while.

Absently, Kenny started doodling his costume. It looked way, way more badass when he drew it than when he was actually wearing it, possibly because sewing was a giant pain in the ass. He actually somehow managed to kill himself while sewing the goddamn costume. He choked himself when he got caught in the sewing machine and a bunch of thread. It was bullshit and humiliating and one of the few times he was actually happy that no one would remember it.

Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper flew onto his desk. Kenny glanced over at the direction it came from, and caught Butters hurriedly looking back towards his notebook. He seemed even more nervous and embarrassed than usual. Huh. Kenny wasn't confused for long, though, when he unfolded the note.

[FOOL! By opening this note, you have become part of Professor Chaos' grand scheme! I have successfully distracted you from learning, thus getting you a bad grade, thus getting you kept in school in the future! How can Mysterion stop me when he's locked up, huh?! Hahahaha! HAHAHAHAHA!

Soon, after school, I will be at the mall, causing mayhem and terror! AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT!

-Professor Chaos]

God damn Butters. So fucking lame. He'd obviously seen Kenny doodling and wanted to play superheroes. Butters didn't seem to understand that Mysterion was a SERIOUS vigilante. No one seemed to understand that. Just because he was ten didn't mean he wasn't doing awesome things.

…

Still, Mysterion couldn't just let Chaos get away with it. Of course not. What kind of hero would he be if he did.

Kenny drew a big question mark on another piece of paper and chucked it at Butter's desk. Alright, fine. While he was doing that he could do some actual important shit too.


End file.
